Hairy Business
by carimasali
Summary: McGonagall has stopped making predictions, except to predict trouble; and Sirius gets a taste of his own medicine.


_A sequel to On the Rack. You don't need to read it to understand this one-shot.  
_

* * *

 **Hairy Business**

 **(Or: McGonagall tries her best)**

* * *

McGonagall's tail flicked lazily, but her eyes were fixed on the chubby boy standing watch in front of the boys' lavatory.

Peter Pettigrew.

Anyone else and she mightn't have paid much attention to it; but she knew Pettigrew's friends and she knew he would not be there at this hour (not so close to dinner) in this particular place on his own.

It had been an unfortunate coincidence that McGonagall had noticed him. She was atop a high, discreet windowsill which gave a lovely view to the lake: it was in fact one of her favourite places to be. Nobody ever noticed her here - after all who paid attention to a cat when there were other much more interesting and wondersome creatures in an enchanted castle?

Not Pettigrew.

He had been standing there, fidgeting and eyes looking back and forth, for a long while. A full hour and a half to be exact. McGonagall had seen the weak November sun go down in that time, seen as the natural day light extinguished slowly and was replaced by the magical lights in the castle. If not for Pettigrew and the inevitable trouble he and his friends were most likely getting into right now, McGonagall would have returned to her chamber to rest before dinner.

What were they getting up to right now? she wondered, tail flicking again. There were lots, uncountable possibilities. She had long stopped trying to make predictions. Only thing she really could predict was that trouble would come.

And so McGonagall kept her eyes open, watched the boys for any clues. Pettigrew was a great tell: he tended to be more anxious and jumpy when his friends were up to something, nearing the climax of their "great" plans. She honestly had expected Remus Lupin to have more sense what with his condition and all, but it was hard to tell the difference between what was anxiety from the effects of the moon cycle and having two of the worst troublemakers in history as friends.

Not that she resented Lupin for having them as friends. They were loyal friends, and generous almost to the point of carelessness. And not just toward Lupin, but toward Pettigrew and others they liked. It was the students who they didn't like that caught the bad side of their tempers. They also weren't used to not getting their way.

Black was a difficult student, he had a temper, carried a fire which brewed under his skin until it burst out in tendrils of cruelty. Potter was an easier boy to handle, his moods were consistent. He was, in a way, predictable like the stereotypical Gryffindor. Black was not. He was brave like Potter, to the point of recklessness, but Potter lacked that viciousness so characteristic to the House of Black.

She had rarely seen such a tight bond between two people form so suddenly and in such little time. Sometimes it was comforting, heartwarming to watch, and other times it gave her a headache. Potter and Black were both the fuel and the fire, and what one did, the other imitated. If Black found something boring, Potter did so too; if Potter thought something was bad, then Black found himself agreeing. McGonagall sometimes wondered how involved Potter had been in Black's house sorting. She had dismissed him right away as another "Slytherin-Black". Boy, had she been surprised. And the howlers that followed the next couple of days had only highlighted this, made her decide to be better than these prejudiced, intolerant bastards.

As far as she was aware, the Potters had had no problem accepting Sirius as their son's friend. Although, McGonagall wasn't too sure they would ever deny their only boy anything.

Be it as it may, Potter and Black were the main source of mischief in Hogwarts. Lupin and Pettigrew only lagged along once in a while

Peter whirled around as the door to the lavatory opened a gap. McGonagall saw four thin white fingers, but who they belonged to was impossible to tell. Pettigrew leaned in, nodded a few times and whispered something back, before he returned to his previous position and the door closed again.

Five minutes, ten minutes passed by with McGonagall growing increasingly impatient. Pettigrew seemed no better either. Some would call her obsessed, even eager to inflict punishment, but it wasn't so: McGonagall just wanted to up them, she wanted to see their faces as she caught them red-handed in the middle of a prank. What she would do, what she would see when that glorious moment finally came, she did not know, but even McGonagall was allowed to dream.

Then the door opened - fully this time - and James Potter walked out, hair more disheveled than usual.

"Yeah so it's not going to work," he sighed. "We already broke three scissors, and-"

"I told you we shouldn't have added the vanilla essence!"

James straightened his back and shrugged. "The good outcome was well worth the risk," he said and gave a brisk nod. "Unfortunately, we - er - were wrong and-"

Peter swallowed, wringing his hands. "Does... does he look very bad?"

James ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, well... he's looked better before."

"What are we going to do now, James?" He glanced around anxiously. "We can't keep 'im inside too long or else-"

"People will notice, yeah we got that far too, Pete." James shook his head. "I've thought about it, and I think we should just go back to our room."

"But... people will notice!"

"No, listen, I've thought about it: if we go to our room as if nothing's happened, maybe they won't bother to notice." James wriggled his brows, but Peter wasn't easy to convince. It was then that Remus exited the lavatory, two scissors in his hands.

"What's taking so long?" he hissed, sliding the scissors into his pockets. "You know it's still growing, right?"

James sighed. "Yes, Moony, we know. I was just explaining to Pete our-"

"You mean _your_ idea."

"Believe me, when my idea works you'll wish it had been yours."

"But it won't work, James!" Peter joined in, placing himself beside Remus. "Besides... how do you pretend everything's alright when it's not? I don't know how to act normal!"

James and Remus giggled. "I dunno," said James. "I thought we'd just make it up as we go; we'll act like we usually do and try not to make any fuss. The louder we are-"

"The more people will look." Remus hesitated. "But... we're usually loud, James. If they see us walk in, all quiet and normal-"

" _Boring_ , you mean."

"- and _normal_ ," he insisted, "they'll automatically look twice our way."

Peter was nodding eagerly. James, however, shrugged again. "Yeah, but that would only happen if we looked like we always do - which we do not at all." He gestured at the lavatory. "They won't notice us, because Sirius looks like a _yeti_! Who expects to see a _yeti_ in the _common room_?"

"He's got a point, Remus," said Peter.

Remus still looked unconvinced. "I mean... sure, but we still have... lots of stairs to go through, and at least five corridors if I'm not mistaken." He huffed and ran a hand over his face. Pale and grey, like the moon. The time of his transformation was not long. "Listen, this is serious-"

James and Peter snickered. "Sirius or the problem?" asked James with a grin.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Both actually, but-"

James put a hand on his shoulder and Remus quieted. "Listen, Remus," said he. "I know you're worried-"

"I'm not _that_ worried..." murmured Remus.

"- but come on! Would you really say this is the worst thing we've ever done?"

Remus lifted a shoulder. "I mean, we shouldn't've added the vanilla extract in the first place..."

James groaned and stepped back. "For the last time," he cried, "we knew the risk and we took it. Did it pay off? No. But would it have been worth it if it'd worked? Yes!"

"Ah, but it didn't work, did it James?" Remus smirked and leaned back against the wall. "And now look at Sirius! He looks-"

"Like a _yeti._ "

Remus' lips twitched, his eyes very bright. "Yeah..."

Their eyes met and after two heartbeats burst out laughing. Peter joined in after a few moments. Their laughter echoed in the corridor and well beyond it. but it was short-lived. The door opened again, but just a gap.

"Will you three _stop_ messing around and help me?" Sirius' called out, hidden behind the door. "This thing is heavy!"

James wiped a hand over his wet eyes. "Sure, no problem, mate," he said. "We were just discussing our options."

"Yeah well, discuss faster, you know how hot it is?!"

The boys laughed again.

"Don't worry, Sirius," said Remus. "The effect will wear off sometime soon. You didn't take much, did you?"

"I don't know. Half a vial, maybe."

"Oh, okay, yeah, that's - uh - it's going to take a bit longer then."

Sirius let out an aggravated sigh. "And how long is 'a bit longer', Moony hm?"

Remus shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?" he retorted. "I'm rubbish at potions!"

"Then why-"

"Maybe we should really just go to our room," Peter suggested. "At least we've got our secret stash there. Sirius can have it while we're having dinner."

"No way you're leaving me behind while you enjoy yourselves!"

"Sirius, unless you want to go to Madam Pomfrey-"

"Never!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well if you don't want to go to her to get rid of your... problem, then you'll have to wait it out. Alone. While we're at dinner."

"That's so unfair! You are the absolute worst! James, you'll stay with me, won't you?"

James shrugged. "Alright, but after everyone's asleep we'll go to-", he looked around, "or _secret place_ to have a _grand_ dinner. As a reward for-"

"I think you mean consolation," said Remus.

"Yes, that. As a consolation for our..."

"Little accident?" Peter suggested.

James pulled a face, Sirius protested loudly behind the door. "Oi! We got a potion wrong, we didn't piss our pants!"

Remus shushed them. "We're wasting time," he said firmly. "We should really get going, James."

"You're right, I think-"

"You need to cut my hair again," Sirius said.

" _That_ will have to wait," Remus argued.

"Yeah, anyway, Peter you go before us, watch out for any people coming our way. Remus-"

" _I'm_ tall enough to give Sirius a bit of cover." He gave James a smug grin.

"Shut up," he mumbled, cheeks pinking at being reminded of his current (lack of) height. "I'll go last, I'll help you with your hair, Sirius…. Sirius, I think you should..."

The door slammed open and Sirius stepped out with the solemn air of a well-bread, wealthy widow. McGonagall had never seen so much hair. Like a bride covered in black, only Sirius wore no silk. His hair hang in heavy strands like a dark veil past his knees, parting at the tip of his nose. His beard was even longer: it was tied in a large knot and swung with every step, hitting his knees in turn.

One by one the four friends got in line: Peter first, Remus second, Sirius right after him, and James going last. Peter looked back, waiting for James to give the sign; when he did, Peter walked on, the others following behind at a secure pace. Sirius' hair kept growing and growing until James was forced to carry it like a flower girl to keep his friend from stumbling. The beard Sirius carried himself. Occasionally Remus would turn to check on them, only to turn away quickly to control his laugh. Peter was slightly more collected. In any case he didn't laugh, but took his job as a scout very seriously.

They didn't notice the tabby cat follow them on quick, silent paws. Eventually, McGonagall had enough. She had observed their exchange, hoping for them to gain some sense (at least Lupin should have!) and just go to the Hospital Wing, but _no_ , they insisted on going through with... McGonagall had no words for it.

She transformed as quietly as a sigh. "Potter! Black!" she barked, making all four of them jump and squeak in fright.

Potter dropped Sirius hair, glasses slipping down his nose. "McGonagall!" he yelped.

"Where did _you_ come from?" Sirius stammered, and looked to Remus and Peter. "Where did she come from?"

Peter and Remus shook their heads... and kept shaking them.

"I was here the whole time, Mr. Black," she said sternly. "Long enough at least to see your utter lack of any kind of common sense!" She waved a hand at him. "Look at yourself! What have you done?"

"Professor-"

"I want to hear it from Mr. Black, Potter," she cut him off and looked at Sirius with raised brows.

Sirius sighed. "I can explain, but you really won't like my explanation."

"Oh I don't doubt you, Mr. Black."

Sirius paused, pondering on whether he should take this as an insult or a compliment. "Well... somebody pointed out not too long ago how my hair would be more beautiful if I grew it out. My dear cousin Cissy - you might know her as Narcissa, Professor; she's your student in-"

"I know very well who she is, Mr. Black."

"Last summer I had the _pleasure_ to have her in my house for a couple of weeks. Family business - in short, it was boring as History of Magic. I was bored then too, so I snuck into her room-"

"I think it's 'sneaked', mate."

"No, it isn't," said Remus, McGonagall and Sirius simultaneously.

"- and I saw, there, on her bed, an article about hair care. So I thought then, why should I have to wait a year to have my hair the perfect length if I can just let it grow with magic? I copied the recepy from the magazine and that's the end of it."

McGonagall took a breath. "You are saying you brew a potion - a potion well past your level and which you just happened to find in a girls' magazine, instead of simply ordering it yourself?"

Sirius was quiet for a short moment. He shrugged. "Yes, pretty much."

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and was silent for a long while. "I cannot – believe your foolishness! To brew a potion – and one you copied from a girls' magazine no less! – unsupervised and with your lack of experience is simply…" She glared at the other three. "You! Have you no sense either? Didn't you think of stopping this madness?!"

James, Remus and Peter exchanged looks.

"Of course you haven't," McGonagall sighed, before they could answer. "First the rack, now the hair, what's next? Will you try to reach the ceiling in the Great Hall? Because I'm warning you, it's impossible and foolish to try!"

She broke off with a huff. Her mind struggled to find a proper punishment. Detention… that seemed a bit excessive, especially since she doubted they would get the message that brewing potions and adding one's own ingredients was foolish and dangerous.

Oh! Now there was an idea!

She took a deep breath and crossed her arms. "I assume you've tried cutting Sirius' hair off in the lavatory?"

"Yes, professor," they said.

She quirked a brow. "I'm right then to assume you've not cleaned up after yourselves?"

"Yes, professor."

"The potion, is it still inside?"

"Yes, professor."

"Is there enough for three people?"

"Y-yes, professor?"

"Alright then," she said, gesturing at the door. "You shall go back inside and clean up everything – toilets, tiles and sinks. I want to see my reflection on the walls. After you're done you'll wash the cauldron, and finally, I want each of you-" She looked at Remus, Peter and James. "- to take the exact amount of the potion Mr. Black has. Once you're done you're allowed to join the other in the Great Hall."

Peter took a sharp breath. "We have to eat with the others?"

"Indeed, Mr. Pettigrew," she said coldly. "I believe that to be a proper punishment. I really hope the lesson will stick this time around. Black-"

Sirius started as her stern gaze fixed on him.

"I hope you've learned your lesson."

He nodded with a sigh. "Yes, I'll never add vanilla extract to any potion ever again."

McGonagall gritted her teeth. "Get to work."

She supervised them, of course. She was way past trusting them to do things the way she wanted – the right way. They were efficient workers, and complained only with meek and pitiful expressions and long sighs and shakes of their heads.

They were finished just in time for dinner. By then, Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin were covered to their knees in hair. They caught quite a few looks when they entered. At first there were only whispers. Then, the giggles and comments. And finally, there was open laughter, and their rivals in Slytherin hollered and jeered, while the rest clapped and cheered. Peter and Remus had the decency to be embarrassed, and they quickly went to take a seat and fill their plates to the brim. Potter and Black, however, glanced at each other (even though the hair stopped them from actually seeing anything), and bowed before their audience.

"You following the Hippie look, Potter?" sneered a Muggleborn from Ravenclaw. "You're a few years too late-"

"Or too early…"

The boys took it with dignity, maybe even a bit of smugness, which did not please McGonagall at all. Perhaps there was a little bit of pride too, because they were in fact dealing with this embarrassing situation with little fuss and tantrums, but nothing made her want to feel differently than the amusement – even approval – of Albus Dumbledore.

Somehow she felt as if she had lost this round. Which was ridiculous since they weren't competing against each other or anything. It was ridiculous, and maybe Minerva needed to go to therapy, but she had the impression to have been trumped by four young, inexperienced mischief-makers.

She stabbed her sausage and ate in silence.

* * *

 _McGonagall still thinks only Sirius and James are behind the pranks, and that Remus and Peter are just followers. She likes the four boys, but she's also a teacher and responsible for their further education. But she would also really like to "defeat" them once._

 _Leave a review!_


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